


Valentine's Day

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [40]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9723038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: Troy breaks the rules of he and Furia’s established holiday tradition.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note this is a first draft, and relatively unedited. Just wanted to post it today. Inspired by all the conversations on Furia’s RP blog (saintedfury.tumblr.com) about her Valentine’s Day and her take on the holiday

**Valentine** **’s Day**

**-1-**

On the ride up in the elevator, Troy’s hand dipped into his pocket, fingertips tapping at the box in his pocket. It was against the rules—gifts on Valentine’s Day. Well, it wasn’t really a rule, he thought, more like an agreement they made.

Their first Valentine’s Day had been easy. Both of them were trying to keep their relationship under wraps, so neither of them did anything too out of hand. Though he had walked into his apartment to find her and two bags of groceries in his kitchen. She’d cooked; he’d tried to help. Then they practically sat in one another’s lap eating and feeing one another bites between cuddles and kisses.

The agreement only came into play years later, after they stopped hiding their relationship. He’d made reservations at the new place downtown that was supposed to do some kind of fusion thing. He showed up at their apartment in a tux with a dozen long stem red roses to find her in the kitchen like he had that first time—with two bags of groceries, wearing a frilly red apron over a skintight dress he wanted to peel her out of. Just like that first night, he also knew he’d find new lingerie under the simple yet slinky dress.

She’d looked at him with confusion at first. When he told her what he planned, she’d looked hurt. When he set the small red velvet box on the counter, she actually broke into tears. Troy, at a loss, tried to repair the situation. A long talk revealed the issue—the reservations, the flowers, the earrings, while thoughtful in their own way were besides the point. Those things weren’t about them.

Cooking together, eating together, being together—that’s what it was supposed to be about. For her, those big displays were just a distraction, they weren’t real. Their tradition was for her, and it had been for him as well. He’d only gone all out because he thought it would demonstrate his commitment to her, to the fact that he was proud to be with her.

Even though, he knew the gift in his pocket was completely about them a part of him still worried it might upset the balance.

 

**-2-**

Furia started preparing without him. He’d texted that he’d be late. So, she thought nothing of finishing the tortillas on her own. Most of the meal either had been cooking most of the day, or finished earlier. She’d saved the tortillas for last because she preferred them warm.

The sound of their heavy front door closing echoed through the apartment. Her heart raced. While she wanted to dart out of the kitchen and greet him, she knew she’d burn the tortilla on the fire if she did. Thankfully, it finished quickly and she did just that, meeting him just before he reached the kitchen.

Feeling his arms slip around her, his lips on hers, she hummed with the same warm contentment those women in the bubble bath commercials seemed to have. It wasn’t all that different from any other night, except that when the kiss broke, he said, “Happy Valentine’s Day! Sorry, I’m late I really wanted to help.”

Clearly, he’d noticed the table already set and loaded with food. She smiled, repeating his greeting and excusing his tardiness, “It’s okay. There wasn’t much left to do. I was just finishing up the tortillas.”

“Tell me there’s butter.”

Furia laughed. “In the fridge.”

He kissed her again, with more passion than the first, squeezing her body against his, before he rushed into the kitchen. The pat of butter melted easily on the warm disc, then he rolled it up and took a bit. His eyes closed and a look of pure bliss overtook him for a moment before he closed the distance to offer her a bite. She’d taught him that trick, and now anytime she made them he had to do it. Troy’s freehand slipped around her waist, keeping her close.

“I don’t know why this is so good,” he said between bites.

“I think it’s an Irish thing. You’re all about the carbs.”

“You taught me this trick,” he reminded, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Oh, I know. But you do the same thing with fresh baked bread and homemade rolls.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “Maybe it’s the butter. We could test that theory.”

“Don’t even think it,” Furia replied sneaking out of his grip before he could even suggest the idea of butter and sex. She cringed.

As he finished his snack, she set to making the last few tortillas. It wasn’t something Troy could help with. She’d tried to teach him to make tortillas, and he just could not get the hang of it. But he did, come over to interfere. Baring her neck, he dotted it with kisses while his hands moved over her hips, occasionally dipping beneath her frilly apron for a squeeze here and caress there.

 

**-3-**

Dinner proved as amazing as just about every other time she cooked for him, which was far more often than he managed it for her. Beyond pancakes, scrambled eggs, and the best bacon ever, Troy wasn’t handy in the kitchen, though he always tried to lend a hand or a distraction when Furia was in the kitchen.

When she abandoned her fork to the side of her plate and spent more time nibbling his neck than anything else, Troy was certain dinner was over. With her legs draped over his thigh, he leaned toward her, diverting her mouth to his own. Long, slow kisses led to sneaky caresses that inched her skirt higher, revealing the lace tops of her stockings. When the fabric-on-fabric purr of his tie being pulled from his collar, reached his ears, he smiled against her lips. Another quick peck and he leaned away, but only a hair.

He’d been looking for the best time to do this all night, but hadn’t yet because he was worried about her reaction. Troy also realized, that he had to do it before she got his pants off or he’d have to go searching for it later.

“I know the rules, but I got you something,” he said.

“Troy.” Her shoulders drooped just a little like she might think the night ruined.

“I know. But it’s not like that, I swear. Open it anyway. Please,” he pleaded, giving her that look, the one that usually got her to forgive him.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said. Her voice sounded sad.

“You cooked this amazing meal all by yourself.” His hand skimmed over her thigh. “And you did get me something,” he countered, snapping the garter against her leg.

Furia shifted her legs, then, in an equally fluid motion, poured herself into his lap, straddling his hips just so. Her attentions to his ear and neck hadn’t been more than enough to incite his libido, the subtle shift of her hips as she settled herself made him ache. But he wanted her to open the gift now, so he busied himself with teasing the bare skin of her inner thighs while she took her sweet time.

He knew she was only taking such great care with the paper to allow herself more time to tease him. In retaliation, his thumb stroked the patch of lace between her thighs. _God that sound_ , he thought when her low moan swirled around his head then when straight to his groin. Even knowing he’d done just what she wanted him to, he did it again. The second sound, while lovely, didn’t affect him like the first. He continued petting her, which just built up his frustration because as her hips shifted against him, the ache in his body increased tenfold.

“You are playing with me,” he finally said.

“Say’s the man with his hand between my legs.”

He smirked, then raised an eyebrow at her, and removed his hand, instead gripping the edge of the table.

Furia looked scandalized. “Let’s not be so hasty,” she countered.

Troy noticed her complete abandoning of the gift for the moment.

“You didn’t have stop,” she pouted.

“Neither did you,” he replied, glancing at the hand resting on his shoulder, which still held the partially wrapped gift. He knew the game, and knew just how to get her to finish opening the gift. Placing both his hands back on her thighs, he gave them a squeeze.

Her left eye brow seemed to follow the lift of the corner of her mouth. She loved to dare him toward brash movements. Holding her mischievous hazel gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth, giving them a lick. As his hand dropped between them, the other gave her panties a forceful tug to the side. That smirk twisted more, but fell away when his finger slipped into the heat of her.

With a satisfied moan, her head fell back. Her hips twitched gently as he moved with an excruciatingly slow pace. When her chin dropped, she wore an intoxicating smile that communicated her little victory.

“Your turn,” he replied, thumb brushing her clit and earning shudder.

Even though he’d given her exactly what she wanted, he knew he had the upper hand for now. He knew just how to excite and infuriate her. The not so subtle movement she made had been aimed at getting his finger where she wanted it. With a smirk, Troy, thwarted her, but kept up his end of their unspoken bargain.

The paper fluttered to the floor and the box was between them again. His pulse pounded for too many reasons, not the least of which was anticipation at seeing her reaction. She drew it out, riding his hand in the slow pace he set until he stopped.

“Fine.” Turning the little latch, she lifted the lid. The smile bloomed slowly, crinkling the corners of her brightening eyes. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked, blinking back up at him.

“Yes,” he replied, sinking a second finger into her and casting as shade of surprise to her pleased look.

Her free hand closed around his shoulder. The curl of his fingers producing a little groan in the back of her throat. It took her a moment, but she returned to the box. Lifting the delicate bracelet and its charm from the carved wood container lined in purple velvet. She dangled it between them. The head of the cuff key was shaped like a heart and set with an amethyst. The key and the bracelet were both platinum, one of the few precious metals that would hold up to the kind of use that key would likely see. Plus, she preferred white metals to yellows.

It wasn’t a cheap after thought. No, he’d commissioned this piece with complete intent. “You’re right,” she acquiesced as she put it on all by herself. “I don’t think this one breaks the rules at all.” Her hips rocked against his machinations once more. “Think we should try it out?” With her question, she stood abruptly.

A quiet whine faded in the dining room, though whether it was her or his he wasn’t so sure. He missed the feel of her as much as he imagined she might regret the absence of his teasing. In the bedroom, it restarted with fervor as they each set to the task of drawing out the other’s pleasure, but it was Troy how managed to get the cuffs on her. With Furia at his mercy, he set to the achievement of her orgasms with concentrated diligence. At that moment, only she mattered. Making her happy was the main accomplishment of his existence then and there; and he poured himself into it.


End file.
